Harvest Moon:The Real Life
by CursiveBlade13
Summary: In the world of Forget-Me-Not Valley, there are many happy families and stories. But, it's rare that anyone ever finds the truth behind those happy facades. This story delves into the hidden, and mostly unhappy stories of the people. On Hold.


daisukezgirl13: Well, this is my first Harvest Moon fanfiction. I was playing it with my friend and this idea popped into my overcrowded head. Hope you guys like it!

Chapter 1: Muffy

I walked from the hotel and wrapped my red sweater closer over my exposed chest. The spring air was nippy and bit at my exposed skin. I had to hurry over to the bar or else my father would scold me or even worse…

I shuddered and it wasn't because of the wind this time. My heels clicked staccato against the cobblestone and my heartbeat matched it almost identically. I saw the faint glow from the bar window and I paused outside of the door, catching my breath. Then, I braced myself and stepped in.

"Hello everyone!" I said, my false smile securely in place. I heard a few responses of, "Hey Muffy," and "Good to see you," but I barely heard them over _his_ deep tone.

"Welcome back, Muffy."

I looked up to his harsh eyes and looked away quickly as he spoke again.

"You're late."

"I know," I began. "And I'm so sorry. I just got caught up talking to Rub-"

"Never mind," he interrupted. "We'll discuss it later." I looked up to his fierce expression and knew I was going to get it later.

I immediately went to work behind the counter, filling drinks and listening to idle chatter. My mind was far else where.

All too soon, it was closing time and I washed down the long wooden, scrubbed counter and glasses. My father, Griffin, worked right next to me, not speaking, although I knew what terrible storm was brewing beneath his silent exterior.

Finally, the night came to a close. I placed the rag underneath the long counter and turned to walk into my small room. I knew he was behind me and I prayed silently that he would pass his judgment and leave me be, but I would never be that lucky.

I walked in and he said, "Come here, Muffy." I closed my eyes as I felt him step closer to me. He spun me around and gripped my forearms very rough. I winced in pain, but kept silent, knowing that only worse was to come. He reached down so that his face was right in mine.

"You were late and you know the consequences for such an action."

I could smell the alcohol on his breath and his wicked grimace showed me he was not in his right state of mind.

"Yes, I know the consequence," I said meekly. He nodded and pushed me away, slapping me roughly on the cheek. I stood still, letting the pointless tears cascade down my cheeks. He pushed forward and ripped my sweater off. I stood still as pushed his rough lips against mine. His tongue forced its way into my mouth, pumping against mine. I continued to cry and try to pull away as he wrapped his calloused hands around my butt. He pulled me closer and slid my leg so I was half straddling him. His hand slid up my skirt and he rubbed up and down my leg. I shuddered at the uncomfortable feeling and my eyes were soaked once more with tears. Then, his other hand slid up my shirt and began to fondle my breasts. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to imagine that this wasn't real as he moaned against my mouth. I pulled away, but he kept coming on to me.

He then took the hand from my thigh and began to move toward my panties. I tried to pull away, but he pulled me in closer and grabbed my wrist, twisting it into an unnatural position. I grimaced and realized resistance was immediately futile. When he realized I became unmoving once more, he continued.

His hand slid into my panties and his fingers brushed my sex. He reached into me and slowly pulsed his fingers up and down. He moaned and I just shut down. He continued pumping and fondling my breasts. His lips trembled over mine and he bit my lip, his tongue and mine locked in a battle for control. Then, it was the climax. He pushed me away from him onto the bed. I laid there as he hovered over me, his shirt half undone, and he grabbed my wrists, pinning them above me. I was his hostage, unable to escape from his sexual dominance. He continued to preoccupy my mouth as he unbuttoned my dress and slid it off of me. His shirt came off and his pants were next. I laid there, unmoving as he unclipped my bra and shoved aside my panties. His tongue left my mouth and moved down. His tongue lapped at my insides and he moaned as he tasted me. I bit my lip as I tried not to scream.

He took off his underwear and it was time for his final strike.

He stuck his hard shaft into my slick, wet, core and I gripped to bed sheets, trying not to cry. He moaned in pleasure as his brain was engrossed with many endorphins. I was just trying not to scream in pain and terror.

Would it ever end? This needless sexual abuse that my own father administered to me almost every night. And many people in town wondered why I acted very slutty and open to sexual ideas? If only they knew what went on behind the bar counter…

If only they all knew…


End file.
